


Shifters

by DreamsAreMyWords



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Apocalypse, F/F, It's not a zombie au, One Shot, Science Fiction, Smut, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 14:36:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17603198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamsAreMyWords/pseuds/DreamsAreMyWords
Summary: “You can’t keep running,” calls Clarke, voice tight with frustration. She catches up with Lexa and a hand at her wrist pulls her back, insistent and warm. Lexa’s breath hitches in her throat and she feels like she’s drowning in everything she’s been fighting to ignore.“Look to the light,” Lexa tells her, meaning for it to sound firm but it comes out with strained desperation instead.Blue eyes flicker from Lexa’s eyes to her lips and back up again.“What’s wrong with a little darkness?”





	Shifters

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the song Darkside by Alan Walker ft Au/Ra and Tomine Harket.

A child’s eyes flash before you take its life.

 

It’s not how the saying goes, and Lexa knows that. She tightens her clammy grip on the handle of her axe. It isn’t her weapon of choice, but then again if she’d had any say in this matter, she wouldn’t be here at all, staring down a ten year old who’s not quite far enough gone that it can’t stand on its own two feet.

 

She shifts the axe from her right hand to her left and back again, tries to focus on the sting of calluses catching on coarse grooves of wood and not on the cadaverous figure staggering forward, wading through air like it’s as thick as tar. Every few seconds it goes the opposite way and jerks to the side so quickly it nearly blinks out of sight, a glitch of existence before it shudders back to normal. Shadowy tendrils wrap wetly around its atrophied body like caught seaweed on driftwood. When it upturns its young face, clouded eyes greet Lexa.

 

Coming face to face with a Shifter is always bad enough, let alone one so young. It’s already gone. Her shoulders drop with resolve, but when she raises her arm, her hands are still shaking. She spares the prayer before she takes a breath. _Look to the light._ Before she can take a step forward, a voice behind her speaks.

 

“Don’t. We’ll take her.”

 

Her brows move down as her arm does. She doesn’t know how they can recognize it as a _her_ , it’s so covered in darkness. It looks far worse than the one they captured a couple weeks ago during their last venture.

 

It’s not her decision though. She takes a step back, shrugs, and the four people behind her move forward; three advance on the child with their neutralizing chains at the ready, and the other lingers nearby to help Lexa keep watch, the hawk perched on his shoulder surveying the scene with keen eyes. They manage to subdue the child before it can glitch free, and Lexa can finally take a breath. They should be able to head back to the labs with minimal injuries and a healthy captive. Mission success.

 

She should know by now things are never that simple. The Shifters come out of nowhere, brief flashes of light predating them, looming shadows elongated on the dilapidated buildings. Three of Lexa’s crew rush on ahead with their captive while Lexa and the remaining two turn with their weapons to give them a chance.

 

It’s not an easy fight. She spares a wish for her swords as she loses her axe in the skull of the first Shifter that lurches toward her. It clatters to the ground when the Shifter glitches free and she snatches it up, pushing the weight of her body into her next thrust. Sweat rolls down her temples as she scrambles up when she’s shoved down. There are too many, so the hawk is released, but a glitching Shifter has it in its hands before it gets far. Feathers burst in the air as its piercing cry is strangled, and its master throws itself into the fray with new abandon that gets him killed with a swift claw to the throat. The Shifter follows a moment later, Lexa’s axe yanking shredded strings of shadow from its head.

 

There’s only two of them left and half a dozen Shifters twitching toward them before further chaos bursts into the clearing. She registers a newcomer in the corner of her eyes, golden hair standing out among all the darkness, but doesn’t have time to verify whether it’s friend or foe. Her two remaining group members fall with shrieks and choking gurgles.

 

Seven years. It’s been seven years and Lexa isn’t about to go now, body lost to the Void in the alleyway of an abandoned apartment complex overrun with the Shifted. She loses herself in the grind, chest heaving and lungs burning with effort as she fights until there’s nothing left, until the flashes of light from Shifted eyes fade and she’s surrounded by death, blood and shadow soaking together on the ground.

 

She’s nauseated but she chokes it down. When she turns around, there’s still one standing, but Lexa hesitates, rooted to the spot. The stranger isn’t glitching, and her blonde hair is matted with sweat and blood but free of shadows. Still, Lexa hesitates; she’s been wrong before. There’s silence save for their heavy breathing and the steady drip of blood from axe to pavement.

 

“Hello?” says Lexa warily.

 

The woman’s gaze snaps up to meet Lexa’s and her stomach turns unpleasantly. Her eyes aren’t cloudy. They’re just a very pretty shade of blue.

 

“You’re not Shifting?”

 

“No.” The woman takes a cautious step closer, eyes narrowed as she studies Lexa intently. “You?”

 

“Nah.” Lexa picks up her bag and hitches it over her shoulder. The woman watches as she bends down to pick up a stray feather, untouched by the mess, and tucks it into her bag. Sentimentality can get you killed, but sometimes Lexa can’t resist.

 

“What are you doing out here alone, then?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

 

“I was with a group. Most of them didn’t make it. The others, I don’t know…”

 

Lexa’s gaze skitters away before she can stop it and the woman simply stares at her; she’s not used to being around normal people. She’s spent the past seven years with scientists who are as curious as they are cold and warriors who push away everything but blood and war. People die all the time. No point in letting emotions drag you down. _Look to the light,_ she reminds herself.

 

“I’m sorry,” she offers when silence stretches between them. “My group died as well.”

 

The sympathetic crease to the woman’s brow takes Lexa by surprise. She’s not used to receiving emotions like that lately, either. “I’m sorry too. Were you together long?”

 

Lexa numbly shakes her head. Truthfully, she barely knew the names of her fallen comrades. Life moves fast ever since The Shift. Strangers become family, and death is an abstract concept the world is still struggling to make sense of.

 

“That’s a silver lining, at least.” She looks away, eyes dimming. Lexa wonders how long she’d been with her group. She doesn’t ask. The woman takes a breath and extends an expectant hand. “I’m Clarke.”

 

“Lexa,” she says shortly, shaking it quickly before dropping it. Her hands are calloused and warm. Lexa can’t even remember the last time she touched another human being.

 

“Nice to meet you.”

 

“Likewise.”

 

* * *

 

The agreement to travel together goes unspoken. There’s a storm brewing on the horizon and a three day walk ahead of them. They talk as they head across town, avoiding any straggling Shifters that come between them and the laboratory. Turns out Clarke’s group had been heading there too, though their knowledge of the lab wasn’t very up to date; their long-hoped “City of Light” isn’t a fortress so much as the ruined remains of a hospital where two dozen scientists are still holed up, fruitlessly fighting to find a cure to somehow reverse all this.

 

There’s a sense of surrealism as the hours pass. Lexa blames the uncertain flutters in her chest on that. She was only twenty when The Shift hit, and as she’d been an intern at Trikru Labs at the time, she had an easy in. She’s been working for Dr. Titus ever since, following orders in return for shelter and safety along with the countless other employees from the labs.

 

Clarke is something new, something Lexa hasn’t encountered in the seven years she’s spent surrounded by the same faces at the lab. Everyone hates Shifters, but Clarke doesn’t seem to share the same sentiments. She shares the old beliefs, back before the world was lost to the Void. A sympathy and pity for the creatures who were once human. Lexa doesn’t understand it, but she finds herself fascinated by her.

 

They find a cave to camp out in the first night. Lexa struggles to sleep during her watch, staring up at the firelight dancing on the ceiling. She’s been doing this for so long, but sometimes the echoes of the screams still reverberate in the confines of her skull. It isn’t until Clarke tentatively takes her hand and rubs patterns with her thumb that she’s eventually lulled into sleep, and Lexa lets it happen. Life moves fast, reality hurtling forward— what harm can come of something like this?

 

On the second night they stay up too late in the shelter of an old parking garage, swapping stories over mushrooms and berries. Clarke had family she lost, not to the Shift but actually lost and hasn’t seen in some time, though Lexa suspects the Shift must have had something to do with it by the way Clarke averts her gaze. They fall asleep huddled close together, rain pattering down on the roof.

 

On the morning of the third day they ready themselves, and Lexa loses all the air in her lungs when she sees it. Clarke fishes around in her pockets for a moment, finally pulling out something Lexa hasn’t seen in years— a cell phone. It’s battered and the screen is overtaken by cracks that extend out like webs, but it still flickers to life as the woman’s fingers fly over it. Without thinking, Lexa slaps it out of Clarke’s hands and it clatters to the pavement. Clarke lunges for it, scrabbling to snatch it up, and when she turns it over the screen flickers feebly before turning black. Clarke rounds on Lexa at once.

 

“What the hell! That was all I had _left!”_

 

“Why would you even _risk_ that?” asks Lexa incredulously, upper lip curling in repulsion.

 

“What other choice is there?” snaps Clarke. “We don’t want to use them either, but we don’t have protection, we don’t have anything to trade for a sunhawk— this is all we have!” She clenches her teeth, glances down at the ruined device. “All we _had.”_

 

Another thing Lexa can’t relate to. She’s been with the lab since day one, and they were some of the first to realize what caused The Shift. Every phone, computer, and electronic was tossed out at once. They were left with rudimentary devices and forced to discover new ways to use technology without radiation. Methods of communication that didn’t pose a danger were expensive, and at first, considered more of a luxury. Now it’s a necessity. They found ways to communicate with the labs across the country, and soon enough hawks and other animals were trained across the globe, but that was years ago. Now the only safe-zone they know of still standing is a state away, and not even the rich are safe from the Void.

 

“It’s not worth it,” says Lexa, stepping over the broken phone. Clarke follows after her, fuming. “The luxury of instant communication isn’t worth turning into a monster.”

 

“Who says they’re monsters?” challenges Clarke.

 

Lexa halts in her tracks, turning to gape at her. “Are you crazy? Were you not just watching them tear people apart two days ago? Did you not see them kill your people?”

 

Clarke glares at her, blue eyes turbulent with anger and something else—hesitation. Uncertainty.

 

“Maybe we just don’t understand them enough.”

 

“I understand them plenty,” says Lexa heatedly, eyes stinging as the memories she worked so hard on never thinking about swim to the surface. Years of watching the coworkers who turned into her family lost to the Void. Watching as their eyes turn cloudy as they caught glimpses into a plane of existence no one else could, as their skin stained with streaks of shadow reaching for them from the other realm, as they finally surrendered and went with it and all that remained were violent animated corpses. “You’re lucky you aren’t showing any symptoms.”

 

“Why, because you’d kill me?” demands Clarke.

 

Lexa doesn’t answer. She hasn’t told Clarke exactly what they do at the lab. Clarke believes it’s a safe zone, and considering the fact that the two of them may very well die before reaching it, Lexa prefers to let her have hope. Now she’s considering otherwise, if only to wipe the sneer off her face, but the sight of it sits heavy and low in her stomach. She ignores it and marches on. Life moves fast, but that doesn’t mean she has to move in that direction with it.

 

“You can’t keep running,” calls Clarke, voice tight with frustration. She catches up with Lexa and a hand at her wrist pulls her back, insistent and warm. Lexa’s breath hitches in her throat and she feels like she’s drowning in everything she’s been fighting to ignore.

 

“Look to the light,” Lexa tells her, meaning for it to sound firm but it comes out with strained desperation instead.

 

Blue eyes flicker from Lexa’s eyes to her lips and back up again.

 

“What’s wrong with a little darkness?”

 

* * *

 

The abandoned apartment they find is lit only by small patches of dappled starlight filtering through the broken pieces of roof. The whole place is covered in a thick layer of dust, but there’s a door that locks and a bed and that’s enough. Everything is dark, and for once Lexa doesn’t care.

 

Clarke kisses her slowly, like she’s out of practice too. Her lips are cold and chapped but they warm with friction until they’re blistering down the curve of Lexa’s neck and settling like sunlight in the hollow of her throat where her pulse beats wildly. Her heart thunders and the heat courses through her veins like lightning and she doesn’t know what to do with it, can’t remember the last time she felt like a storm without being coated in blood and ripped shadows. She forgot the violence of the light too, how it crawls inside you and lights you up from within. It has terror clogging her throat. She doesn’t know what to do with it, doesn’t remember how to hold this light in her palms without letting it sink through her fingers or swallow her whole.

 

“You feel safe,” whispers Clarke, shaking against her and kissing her with desperate hunger. “And like the most terrifying thing all at once.”

 

Lexa threads her hands through tangled hair and pulls, draws her in closer, closer, willing to burn. “So do you.”

 

She can’t get enough of it. It’s addictive and her head swims as she’s walked backwards until her knees hit the mattress and lips are attacking her neck again. There’s no taking it slow when the world moves so quickly you can barely keep up with it, or so Lexa thought. Clothes are shed without hesitation, but despite the racing of her heart the night moves slowly, caught in a bubble of calm.

 

Then Lexa sees it.

 

The body above her grows taut and tight, chest stilling as hitched breath is suspended. The shudders and quakes start all at once, violent enough it has the bed creaking, and the metaphorical light in Lexa’s palm spills out like liquid sunlight. Caught breath escapes in a long, low hush, and Lexa’s heart lodges itself in her throat when those blue eyes flash, milky and opaque. Lexa’s fingers curl into cool air as Clarke glitches atop her, once, twice, shadows curling around her heart before fading like they were never there. Then the body atop her collapses, warm and soft and alive, and Lexa is still beneath her, shocked.

 

She must be seeing things. That’s the only explanation, because Clarke stirs after a moment, opening eyes so bright they’re nearly glowing, but they aren’t as cloudy as they were a moment ago. It must be normal. It’s been so long perhaps Lexa simply doesn’t recall what it’s like, what intimacy looks when it’s colored across someone, flush in their face and in the air.

 

“You okay?” asks Clarke, voice thick and sleepy.

 

Lexa swallows thickly, looking up at the stars shining overhead. “More than.”

 

“Good.” Clarke’s smile shifts, curling sharp in the corners as she begins descending.

 

“You don’t have to,” protests Lexa, even as her body burns for it, and Clarke cuts her off with a shake of her head.

 

“Shh.” She smiles warmly as she nuzzles her stomach, and gestures for Lexa to shift her gaze upward. “Look to the light,” she whispers before descending, and then Lexa’s eyes flutter shut anyway.

 

* * *

 

They reach the lab and find it lit up in flames.

 

For most, it’s too late. Lexa and Clarke struggle through the lobby and up the stairs, beating back any Shifters that rush them, ducking to avoid burning debris raining from above. There are more shifters than Lexa has ever seen when reach the second floor and are greeted with deafening chaos. The horde notices and she braces herself as they begin staggering toward where she and Clarke stand in the threshold. Lexa raises her axe and this time her hands don’t shake.

 

“Wait, don’t!”

 

Lexa looks at her in indignant disbelief. “Don’t? They’ll overrun us!”

 

“Don’t, please! Don’t attack them.” Clarke’s hair is plastered to her sweaty face, bright blue eyes wide and beseeching. “Trust me, Lexa, please, whatever you do—don’t attack.”

 

It’s madness. But Lexa looks at Clarke, and something stays her hand. She’s lit up with the destruction surrounding her, firelight dancing on skin coated in soot and shadow, the reflection flickering in cloudy eyes. golden hair flashing like the morning sun. She looks ethereal and otherworldly, like light incarnate, and it calms Lexa as much as bolsters her. Her heart hammers in her chest as she lowers her weapon. The shadows surge forward and Lexa closes her eyes, waiting for the press of darkness, for the tear of it into her skin, but it never comes.

 

Her eyes fly open as curdling screams pierce the air over the roar of the fire and crashes of debris. The shadows have bypassed Lexa and Clarke and have set upon the remaining scientists, devouring them where they stand. Some ignore them entirely and hurtle through the halls in glitching dark masses, quickly and erratically as though they’re searching for something. When they enter the last room, they return with a new addition in tow: the child.

 

Realization crashes through Lexa like ice through her veins, a jarring contrast to the heat of the ruined lab. The cogs in her head turn with delayed numbness, piecing disjointed memories together … all this time, the Shifted never attacked first. The attacks always came _after_ a harvesting, never before. Which means …

 

She looks at what remains of Titus. His mangled body is strewn across the hall, his eyes open and unseeing. His bald head is as bloody as his immaculate white coat, the deep set rivets of his wrinkled face caked in blood. He doesn’t look like a monster. He looks like a weak, broken man, but perhaps that’s not far off from the truth.

 

They told her when humans caught the plague and Shifted, somehow their disease ripped a hole in the world as they know it and they were making the transition from this plane to the next. Titus told her they were seeking a cure when they sent them out to capture patients and bring them back to study, and maybe they were. But maybe the Shifted weren’t a plague at all; the world was dying and tech was taking over … were they simply evolving to survive it? Fleeing to a new place to live? Birth is always violent.

 

Lexa drops her axe and takes a step back.

 

“Madi,” breathes Clarke, staggering forward to throw her arms around the girl. Her eyes are cloudy and opaque and they close as though in relief when Clarke holds her.

 

The building is falling apart. Shifters stagger off, shadows looming behind them, lights flashing with every blink of their eyes.

 

Clarke turns to face Lexa, her eyes brighter than ever. Shadows are creeping forth on her skin, tendrils that curl like tentacles around her pale arms.

 

“Come with me.” Clarke extends a hand. “We don’t know what’s on the other side, but we could find out together.”

 

Lexa takes her hand.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Some troll posted a shitty fic (please do NOT click on it to give them hits, that's the whole reason why they post shit) so I decided to post a one-shot in efforts to help it get off the first page sooner. This is actually a short story I wrote for a writing contest last year, I just tweaked a few things and reworked it into Clexa. The original story had to be 1500 words so was perhaps more concise, but I thought maybe a little smut and other bits would be appreciated. I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you think ^_^


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